


Remix

by kieyra



Category: Veronica Mars - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:59:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kieyra/pseuds/kieyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Author meets futurefic format, gets it liquored up, and takes advantage. Written July 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

***  
  
    **T** he hotel suite's windows have thick, thick curtains, and when Eli wakes up the room is so dark he thinks it's still the middle of the night. But the digital clock tells him it's nearly four in the afternoon, the numbers glaring red at him like accusation. And then he realizes that the curtains are edged with the thinnest slivers of what can only be sunlight.  
  
    He groans.  
  
    Then he hauls himself out of the bed and makes his way along the carpet until he finds his jeans. He manages to pull them on without falling over, and shakily fishes a pack of smokes and his lighter from the back pocket. Then he limps over to the nearest chair, sore in lots of little muscles he'd forgotten he had, and settles down in it with a sigh.  
  
    He rakes a hand through his hair, getting it back away from his face, then lights up a cigarette and inhales slowly. He holds the smoke, exhales, then just sits there a moment in the artificial darkness. His eyes adjust and the shadows solidify into details of the room: huge plasma television on the wall; armoire and end tables made of heavy wood; and, visible through an open door, the marble bathroom with the glass-walled shower big enough for four people.  
  
    And in the middle of the room, the bed; the big bed with its sheets that are soft and thin as tissue, and what seem like a hundred little pillows. And sleeping in the middle of the bed, a small body burrowed deep into the covers: Veronica Mars.  
  
    And on the far side of her, also motionless, another body. Larger and unmistakably masculine. One forearm slung up over his eyes, but no doubt at all who it is.  
  
    Logan Echolls.  
  
    Eli takes another drag on the cigarette. He's had worse morning-afters, no denying it. But _this_ \--  
  
    This might be the strangest.  
     
***  
  
    "Weevil!"  
  
    It's a woman's voice behind him in the club; Eli's twenty-nine and no one's called him that name for years. Still, the reflex never really goes away, so he turns around to look before he has a chance to think about it.  
  
    If he'd thought about it, he might've kept on walking. Weevil's a name from the past and the past is bad news--you can count on that.  
  
    Doesn't really know why he still comes to this place every weekend; business is good at the tat shop these days, he's built a rep and he doesn't need to work the scene, handing out his cards and showing off the arms like he used to. But he comes here anyway, watches people, has a beer or two. And makes the occasional hookup--those being amazingly easy to come by these days, ever since the vaccines for the really nasty stuff came out. And anyway, the waitresses and the bartenders all know him. It's familiar.  
  
    But no one here calls him that name. No one here knows it.  
  
    "Weevil!"  
  
    Louder this time, and he sees where it's coming from: a blonde off at the edge of the crowded dance floor, a guy in tow. Coming his way.  
  
    Maybe four seconds pass, and his brain tries to turn itself inside out in disbelief as he realizes who they are: Veronica Mars. Logan Echolls. From Neptune. Hasn't seen either of them since high school.  
  
    Should have kept walking.  
  
    But he smiles anyway, smiles to see Veronica at least; she's making a beeline towards him, dragging Echolls behind her. "See?" she says, looking up at Logan, "I _told_ you it was him!" She turns back to Eli, says, "Almost didn't recognize you with the hair."  
  
    He grew his hair out a long while back. Shaving his head just got to be too much of a hassle, and once he left the gang he stopped caring as much about looking like one badass motherfucker.  
  
    _They_ both look good; both filled out since school. Veronica's looking pretty damn nice in jeans in and a sparkly, bare-shouldered top. Logan's wearing jeans, too, and a buttoned shirt, tailored but slightly disheveled; an expensive, careless look.  
     
    "Damn," Eli says finally, when his mouth starts working again. "Never thought I'd see _you_ two again." Comes out kind of wrong, but it's hard to know what else to say. So he leans over to hug Veronica, then puts out a hand to Logan. "Hey, man."  
  
    Logan doesn't even hesitate, shakes his hand, doesn't try to put the grip on him or anything. But he doesn't look as happy about the situation as Veronica does.  
  
    "Eli Navarro," Veronica says slowly, still beaming. "Who'd have thought?"  
  
    Logan nods. "Really. I mean, there's only gotta be what, five thousand clubs in San Diego? What are the _chances_?" There's that acid edge in his voice, just like old times, like the guy never did learn how to even _fake_ being sincere.  
  
    They all just smile awkwardly at each other. "Jesus, look at you guys," says Eli finally. "How you been?"  
  
    They both start to answer at once, but the DJ's cutting in a new song and punching up the volume. Place'll be deafening by the end of the night.  
  
    So: "Come on," Eli says, and gestures for them to follow him. He leads them upstairs to the smaller bar, walled away from the dance floor and the DJ. Still noisy, but at least up here you can snag one of the little art-deco booths and hold something like a normal conversation.  
  
    "I still can't believe it's really you!" says Veronica, after they slide into the booth. "You come to this place a lot?"  
  
    "Some," he says, noncommittally. "Never seen you guys here before."  
  
    "No," says Logan. "Still in Neptune. We're just here for the weekend. We heard about all these hot clubs in the new arts district. And Neptune, you know, still snoozeville." He grins one-sidedly. "At least since _you_ left."  
  
    Eli shrugs it off. "So you two married now or something?" The fact that they're even together is surprising. They weren't dating at graduation, weren't even speaking to each other that he knew of. Of course, _no_ one was really speaking to Logan, that last year.  
  
    Veronica and Logan exchange smiles, and Logan doesn't take his eyes off Veronica when he says, " _She_ won't sign a pre-nup."  
  
    Still smiling, Veronica says, "Would you, if you were me?"  
  
    Eli doesn't feel this calls for comment. He hasn't dated anyone since Monica stole his television and disappeared three years ago. Marriage has never come up. And he gets the feeling that Veronica and Logan's little back-and-forth is all pre-rehearsed anyway, something they just say to shut people up. He's got plenty of those routines himself.  
  
    And then Lisa the waitress comes by, and Eli orders a beer. While Logan and Veronica are ordering their drinks, he studies them both. Veronica's blond hair is long, really long now, but shiny and silky, with an expensive cut. Her face is much the same as when she was younger, bone structure is maybe a little finer, but all that cynicism is beginning to etch one perfect line between her eyebrows. Her teeth are straight and white, her skin glows, and her bare arms show off the kind of biceps that come from lots of sessions with a personal trainer.  
  
    Logan's changed even more since school. His surfer highlights are gone, and his short, spiky hair is much darker now, maybe his natural color. Deep crow's feet are starting to form at the edges of his eyes, when he smiles you can really see them, but it's the kind of thing that probably has the chicks swooning at his feet. And he's less gangly, more solid. His posture is straighter. Eli remembers that Logan used to always look like he was skulking--even when he was trying to get all up in your face. That's all gone from his body language now; either he made some kind of peace with his rage or he learned how to hide it better.  
  
    For Eli, it's a little bit of both.  
  
    They finish ordering, and then Logan turns and gives Eli a particularly piercing look, like he's just now really noticing him. He smiles darkly and says, "Man. Running into you sure brings back some _memories_ , doesn't it?"  
     
    Eli grabs Lisa's forearm as she's about to walk away. "And keep 'em coming."  
  
    Yeah, it's going to be a long night.  
  
    "It's so goodto see you," says Veronica. "Really. Out of everyone at school, I always wondered what happened to you. And you look great. How have you been?"  
  
    "Can't complain," says Eli. He tells them about college, and the tat shop, and they seem sincerely happy for him. Maybe they even are. Veronica talks about her work as a Federal marshal--Eli doesn't catch all of it--and Logan says he's producing television shows. Makes sense--showbiz family, and Logan inheriting all that money after his daddy got whacked in prison.  
  
    Eli flashes on the old memory of Lilly, and of the day he found out it was Aaron Echolls. Sometimes he still wishes he'd been man enough to get himself popped for something big, sent down with that bastard, done the job himself. But men who killed pretty little girls didn't survive in prison, even if they were famous. Someone finally figured out how to get to him, few years back, and Aaron Echolls is dead. Just like Lilly. It's all old news now.  
  
    He realizes he missed a question. "Sorry?"  
  
    "I said, are you seeing anyone special?" Veronica smiles at him.  
  
    "Oh. No. Keepin' my options open, you know what I mean?"  
  
    They take it for what it is, and laugh politely.  
  
    Lisa comes with the drinks then, and Eli can't slam his beer back fast enough _._ He suddenly wants not to be here, sitting and facing his past, talking to these people, trying to remember who he was then and keep hold of who he is now. Now that the initial shock of seeing them is wearing off, he's not sure why they're all even here, drinking and pretending it's some friendly reunion. And he _d_ _oesn't_ want to get stuck with them all night. He's not in a mood for deep conversation, or for reminiscing about how shitty they all were to each other back in the day.  
  
    He steals a glance at Veronica. _Or for thinking about unfinished business._  
  
    Veronica and Logan drink their beers too. The conversation gradually dies down to nothing, but before the silence can get really awkward, Logan gets up suddenly. "Bathrooms?"  
  
    "Back downstairs, behind the main bar," says Eli.  
  
    "You know what," Logan says, pausing beside the booth, "I'll just catch the waitress while I'm up, have her bring us a bottle of something."  
  
    Great. A bottle of something. So there's no escape. Unless he makes something up. _Gotta meet someone._ Yeah, that's it.  
  
    And now it's just him and Veronica.  
  
    "I'm _really_ glad to see you," she says, for what seems like the hundredth time, and suddenly Eli realizes he hasn't exactly echoed the feeling.  
  
    "Sorry," he says. "It's just a little weird, y'know? People from your past and all that. But it's good to see you too, I mean it."  
  
    Veronica gives him a wry look. "Oh, the past sucks--don't I know it. But _people_ change _._ "  She stares at him earnestly, and he's not sure what she's trying to tell him.  
  
    Logan's changed? He's not a self-righteous bastard anymore?  
  
    Or is she talking about _him?_ He can't tell. And then the moment passes anyway, and she's all smiles again.  
  
    "Sure," agrees Eli. "People change."  
  
 ***  
  
    The bottle of something turns out to be one of those super-premium vodkas: high-tech distillation, label that belongs in an art gallery, and way, way out of Eli's price range as a weekly habit. Can't even really call the stuff 'top shelf' because they probably keep it locked up in a back room somewhere. But he figures Echolls is picking up the tab, so fuck it.  
  
    They drink it out of little plastic bar glasses. He and Logan drink it straight. It goes down like nothing, like it's not even alcohol. Veronica dilutes hers with bottled water, and sips it slowly. It's still weird, though--he wouldn't have figured her to turn out to be a drinker, not from anything he ever knew of her.  
  
    Maybe tonight she's making an exception.  
  
    But they've been talking for an hour now, talking about nothing much, safe stuff like who ended up married with kids, and who went into politics, and how the basketball team won that one big game; and as they talk it's becoming more and more obvious to Eli that there's something _wrong_ with the two of them. Under the smiles and the expensive clothes and the smalltime chatter, there's something strange in their eyes when they glance away; some distraction or worry, and it looks exactly the same on both of them.  
  
    Logan pours them all another inch and a half of vodka. Eli isn't sure this is the time to let himself get completely wasted, isn't sure these are the people to do it with, but it's kind of too late now. The vodka goes down even smoother this time. And the stuff is stronger than he expected.  
     
    "Hey!" Veronica says during the next lull, "Remember how you and Logan used to be, like, constantly on the verge of beating the crap out of each other?" She's starting to talk a little louder, leaning across the table towards him and smiling more, like she's getting a little buzz on.  
  
    Eli's starting to catch a good buzz himself. But he just grins, and _doesn't_ point out that he usually had the definite upper hand.  
  
    Logan looks annoyed for a split second, but then he smiles. "Ah," he says, "To be young and really, _really_ stupid." He raises his cup in toast.  "Good times."  
  
    Yeah, Logan's definitely gotten that 'tude under control. But so has Eli. He grins and takes a drink.  
  
    But then Logan wipes his mouth on the back of one hand and says, absently, "Hell, we're just lucky we all lived long enough to graduate."  
  
    A beat passes, and then it's like a chill wind blowing down across the table; even Logan's own face falls when he realizes that in one sentence he's invoked everything they've been carefully avoiding.  
  
    Like Lilly, who _didn't_ live to graduate. Like Veronica, damn near put in an early grave herself when she found out the truth. Like Duncan Kane, who had a nervous breakdown in senior year and tried to kill himself in the family garage, the old tailpipe method, and spent all that December in a mental ward.  
  
    Like Logan and Eli and that night on the Coronado bridge.  
  
    Silence. Veronica stares down at her nails. Eli reaches for his glass, discovers it's empty. He pours himself another hit. He's not nearly drunk enough for _this_ shit.  
  
    Another swallow, and then he murmurs, "Yeah, well, that was a long time ago."  
  
    More silence.  
  
    "I'll be right back," says Veronica, and gets up, a little unsteadily. Not looking too happy now, she heads off towards the stairs.  
  
    Leaving Logan and Eli alone now, avoiding each other's eyes. Finally, because things are already bad anyway and it seems like the polite thing to do, Eli says, "I heard about your sister, man. I'm sorry."  
  
    Trina Echolls OD'd a long while back, a Hollywood statistic. It was on the cover of all the tabloids. Eli remembers her face, how she looked so haunted and tired and _old_.  
  
    Logan just nods, his expression unchanging. "Thanks." A hollow shrug. "I guess she never got over it--finding out what my father really was."  His eyes cut to Eli, then back out at the crowd. "I guess in a way he killed _her_ , too."  
  
    Fuck. Hadn't meant to keep _that_ topic going.  
      
    Logan must have seen him wince, because he says, "Like you said. It was all a long time ago." He looks down and swirls the dregs of alcohol around the bottom of his cup. Then he looks back up at Eli. "I mean, _fuck_. Shit that crazy happens to you? You either find a way to deal with it or you end up like Trina. And I decided a long time ago I might as well live."  
  
    It shocks the hell out of Eli, not because Logan sounds so rational or because there are even words like that coming out of his mouth, but because it echoes his own epiphany at twenty-two. _Elias,_ his grandmother had yelled at him _, don't you get it, you stupid boy? I don't want any more of your damn money, I just want you to act like there's going to be a tomorrow!_ Shaking her head in the little kitchen, desperately trying to get him to understand something she couldn't find words for in any language.  
  
    And then Felix had gone and gotten himself killed, knifed over some girl in a bar parking lot, and Eli had woken up one day not long after and he _got_ it, he got what his grandmother had been trying to say to him. And he'd made an appointment with a counselor down at the community college the next week.  
  
    He'd decided to live, that was all. And simple as it sounded, it was the hardest thing he'd ever done.  
  
    Logan's still looking at him now, and Eli can't help but let his own guard down a little, and let it show in his face.  
  
    "Yeah," he says.  
  
    Logan nods, almost imperceptibly.  
  
    Veronica comes back a few minutes later, and Eli sees that she's slipped into a whole new demeanor, cheerful and bouncy, and she strides up to the booth, grinning. She slips in next to Logan and lays this totally hot kiss on him, out of nowhere. And Logan sure as hell doesn't resist.  
  
    Eli knows he shouldn't stare, but somehow he can't tear his eyes away.  
  
    Then Veronica pulls away from Logan, and smiles over at Eli; and for a second something flashes in her eyes that confuses the hell out of him, something fiery and intimate and completely unexpected.  
  
    She licks her lips and reaches for the bottle, pours them all refills. "Come on," she says. "Enough with the drama overload. Drink up." She unscrews the cap of her bottled water and smiles at Eli again. "Besides. It's earlier than I thought."  
  
***  
  
    Hundred-dollar vodka is a pretty good drunk, Eli has to admit; it's floating and warm, and much, much stronger than he bargained for. And he doesn't feel like getting in a fight, the way beer makes him feel sometimes; he doesn't feel like going out and doing anything stupid, he's content to just sit here in the booth across from Veronica and Logan and laugh about old times, and watch the two of them tease each other and make out right in front of him.  
  
    "So, hey," says Logan at one point, beginning to slur his words just a little, "I've been thinking about this. Back at Neptune, you were the biggest badass at school, right? You were scary. I mean, listen, people were seriously _afraid_ of you. And now--now you're an artistor some shit _?_ What the fuck is up with that?"  
     
    Veronica laughs, and Logan smirks, but it's mostly good-natured; and Eli nods patiently. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Damn shame, ain't it?" He's heard all of this before.  
  
    "So you broke up the band and went solo," says Logan.  
  
    He takes a breath, opens his mouth to tell Logan that getting out of a gang ain't exactly as simple as that, especially when you run the crew and the other gangs know it. For a long time he wasn't sure San Diego would be nearly far enough away.  
  
    But he swallows it, just says, "Things change."  
     
    "But I bet you've still got your bike," says Veronica.  
  
    "Got a new one," he says. "Trashed the old one." It's getting harder to put complicated sentences together. "Damn drunk almost hit me. Had to lay it down."  
  
    "'Lay it down'," repeats Veronica. "Isn't that biker-speak for 'I lost control of my motorcycle and broke it'?"  
  
    "You know," says Eli, "I don't remember you being this much of a smartass." He nods over at Logan. "I think your boy Echolls here is a bad influence."  
  
    "She's a bad influence on _me_ ," mutters Logan, pouring another hit.  
  
    Veronica laughs again. "But you weren't hurt? When you had to _lay it down_?" She smiles at him, still being a smartass, and he can't help but laugh even though she's giving him shit.  
  
    "Broke a few ribs." He grins at her wickedly. "Everything still works."  
  
    Veronica looks at Logan. "Now, why can't _you_ do something manly like crash a motorcycle and break a few bones?"  
  
    "Manly?" Logan asks. "It's _manly_ you want _?_ "  
  
    And they go back to sucking face, and Eli laughs. It's getting surreal. And they're all getting very, very drunk. Veronica and Logan's cheeks are flushed, the way gringos' faces get when they drink too much. Logan's been slurring his words. Eli knows _he_ has. Veronica doesn't slur, not quite, she just talks a little slower and more deliberately.  
        
    And for now, those two ain't talking anyway, and it's getting pretty hot and heavy over on the other side of the booth. Which just adds to the surrealism. Veronica's practically climbing onto Logan's lap, holding onto his shoulders as they kiss, long pale hair tumbling down her back. And Logan locks his forearms at the small of her back, bringing her up and nearer.  
  
    Eli still can't stop watching.  
  
    Lisa glides by and looks at the little show Veronica and Logan are putting on, and shoots Eli a sympathetic _what-can-you-do_ glance as she moves on to the next table. Eli smiles at her, but his gaze snaps back to Veronica and Logan the second she's gone. Logan starts to kiss Veronica's throat, and her eyelids flutter and close.  
     
    And then Eli realizes the whole thing is turning him on.  
  
    _Not_ good. He may be drunk off his ass, but he's still sober enough to know better. So he gets up and heads downstairs.  
  
    It ends up taking him longer than he planned, because he keeps running into people he knows on the way; Mike the bouncer stops him to ask about an appointment at the shop next week, and Juliette and Nicole intercept him after _that_ , and invite him to some after-hours party. He gets the directions to that just in case. And finally there's Lisa again, with a tray of drinks up on one shoulder. She stops long enough to shout over the music: "Hey, Eli--who are your friends back there? And what are they _on_ , anyway?"  
  
    "Long story, baby," he says, and winks at her. Lisa's all right. And good in bed, when she's not with her on-again, off-again boyfriend. Who happens to be Mike the bouncer. But Lisa just smiles and keeps moving, and so does he.  
  
    He has to piss like the proverbial racehorse, which gives him time to reflect, in the relative quiet of the men's room, on just how drunk he is. So scratch the after-party, even if he could ditch his current company, because he needs not to drive; later on, he can walk the few blocks over to the shop and just crash back in the office.  
  
    Having decided this, he then decides he might as well keep on drinking, since he's still pretty much up for anything and not tired at all. And that vodka, that's some good shit.  
  
    But on the way back, heading back up the crowded stairwell, he does a double-take. Because, hey, there's Veronica and Logan. Right up there on the landing between the first and second floors; Logan's got his back against the stairwell wall. Veronica's leaning up against him and doing something to his earlobe. Logan's hands are planted firmly on her ass. Logan sees Eli then, murmurs something to Veronica, and she stops what's she's doing and turns in his arms. She smiles at Eli and does this little wave with one hand.  
  
    He moves closer to them as people push past him in both directions; makes his way through the flow of bodies until he comes up against the wall alongside them. He leans one shoulder to the wall and nods.  
  
    "You guys taking off?"  
     
    "You were gone for a long time," says Veronica. "So we decided to come look for you." She grins. "And then we got distracted."  
      
    Eli blinks. Come look for him? Now he's confused on top of the good drunk he's got going, no idea what to say to that. Logan stands behind Veronica, hands on her shoulders, and they both just keep on eyeing him, smiling in a way that's more than a little unnerving. Like they've been discussing him while he was gone.  
  
    And then he gets it. He's seen this before, couples who've been together a few years too long, out drinking way too late at clubs like this one. Looking for something else, _someone_ else, to help take the edge off, and maybe not even admitting it to each other till it's too late to stop it. So maybe the two of them aren't content to just go home together, alone, and finish what they'd been starting back at the table. And if they've fixed on _him_ for some reason...  
  
    Wouldn't be the first time he's played that role, but--God--with _them?_  
  
    "So you guys got a designated driver, or what?" he asks, figuring he must be wrong, hoping that he's wrong. And kind of hoping, at the same time, that he isn't.  
  
    Veronica's smile gets wider, and in a blink it's _there_ again, that same seductive fire she flashed at him earlier.  
  
    "We've got a limo," she says, mimicking the rhythm of his speech, "and a suite over at the Lancaster. You coming with us, or _what?_ "  
  
 _Holy Mary, Madre de Dios._  
  
    No way is this really happening.     
  
    He looks her up and down. Filled out real nice, Veronica Mars has, with her nice white shoulders and her hips not so skinny anymore, and...no fucking _way_ can this be this happening.  
 _  
_ And Logan; Logan, who's gotten a whole lot quieter and harder to figure in the decade-plus since Neptune High, standing there watching and not objecting at all.  
  
    Eli's got no earthly idea what to do now, suddenly wanting Veronica worse than he ever did back then, and knowing how many ways this could go bad fast. But he's feeling his own buzz pretty hardcore now and he's becoming less inclined to care about what is and isn't the right thing to do.  
  
    Except maybe he's reading too much into things. Maybe they're just inviting him back for a drink out of politeness. He tries to sober up, think it through.  
  
    But that _tone_ in Veronica's voice...the way she keeps smiling at him...the look.  
  
    She chews delicately on her lower lip. Still waiting for his answer. He can't even remember the question now.  
  
    And it all must show on his face, because Logan finally speaks up:  
  
    He says, "You want to kiss her, man? Go ahead."   
  
    Jesus.  
  
    He glances at Logan; Logan's grinning his dark smile. Like he's daring him to do it, and maybe not completely friendly about it. Standing behind Veronica, Logan takes his hands off her shoulders, holds up his palms; and Veronica slides away from him and up closer to Eli.  
     
    She looks up at him, a smile on her parted lips. And the look on her face: _Well?  
  
    What are you going to do about it?  
_  
    Maybe it's because part of him will never stop being seventeen and angry and wanting to beat Logan Echolls at everything; or maybe it's just because Veronica looks smoking hot right now and it's been a while for him. Maybe it's the track the DJ's spinning, a remix of some old song about sin and sweat and _lies, lies, lies.  
  
    _ But the plain truth is that reasons don't matter, because Veronica just draws him in with her eyes and that look on her face, and it's not like he has any choice, it's like some damn siren song. He touches her face, leans in and barely brushes her lips with his, just kind of to see what'll happen. But she makes it clear, fast, that they're not playing high school games anymore. The stairwell wall is solid against his back even if he's not sure how it got there, and Veronica's fingers interlace behind his neck as she leans bodily against him. Her mouth is small and sweet and hot, her breasts are full and soft against him, and her hips, where his hands have landed, don't shy away from his own.  
  
    Her tongue finds his, and he stops trying to kid himself he's remotely got a handle on this.  
     
    He hears catcalls from a couple of passers-by. He ignores them. Ain't like this is an unusual scene here.  
  
    Hands at the hollow of her back now, tracing her lower spine through the fabric of her blouse; Veronica twists a little and gets herself even closer to him, those arms are stronger than you'd think, and she traps his lower lip between her teeth. Runs her tongue along it.  
  
    Enough's enough. He reverses things, turns them around so it's her back to the wall. One hand cupping the nape of her neck, fingers winding in her glossy hair, the other on the back of her left hip. And then sliding lower.  
  
    Even as they kiss, he can feel her grinning.  
  
    And it takes him another minute beyond that to remember about Logan. He pulls his mouth free with some effort, and steals a glance over to where Logan was standing.  
  
    But the spot is empty; Logan's gone. Eli reflexively takes a step backwards, away from Veronica, figuring that this deal has already gone sour and it's time to reassess. But Veronica follows him and slides her arms up around his neck again.  
  
    "Don't worry," she says. "He's just gone out front to meet the limo."  
  
    Eli stares at her. "You sure this is a good idea?"  
     
    "Unless you've got a problem with it." She regards him curiously, like it hadn't even occurred to her that he might. She glides her fingertips along the back of his neck, disturbing the closer-cropped hair there, giving him little chills. " _Do_ you?"  
  
    He thinks about it for all of maybe two seconds.  
  
    "Nope."  
  
***  
  
    It's not a long ride to the hotel, but that doesn't stop Logan from opening another bottle in the limo and passing it around. They drink straight from the bottle, Veronica sitting between Logan and Eli. She passes the bottle back over to Logan and then she twists around in the seat, facing Eli, and hooks one leg over his thigh. She nestles up against him, runs a hand up his chest, and breathes into his ear.  
  
    His pulse skyrockets, not least because Logan's staring at them now, riveted.  
  
    "Don't worry," murmurs Veronica into Eli's ear, "Logan's okay with watching."  
  
    In the hotel lobby, and in the elevator up to the 11th-floor suite, everyone's well-behaved and he almost expects the whole thing to end there. But as soon as the door closes behind them in the suite, he barely has a chance to look around at the opulence and say "Jesus--" before Veronica's on him again.  
  
    She pulls him into a bedroom and onto its huge bed. No lights on in here, just light filtering in from the outer rooms, and he doesn't realize at first that Logan has trailed them in, and is hanging back in the shadows on the far side of the room.  
  
    No time to think much about it. Veronica straddles him and reaches down to pull his shirt up over his shoulder blades, and all the way off.  Then she reaches for his belt buckle.  
  
    There's a time for prudence, a time to stop and ask questions; a time, in short, to make sure you're not doing something that in the morning will reveal itself to be batshit crazy. Eli finally accepts that this just isn't one of those times, and gives himself over to it.  
  
    All of it.  
  
    Never would have thought to see Veronica Mars quite like _this_ , naked and glorious, hovering up above him in the semidarkness, riding him like some wild thing. Her long blond hair falls to her breasts, which rise and fall in time with her hips. Her skin is like faintly glowing silk under his fingers.  
  
    It takes a while, since he's drunk, but she doesn't tire out, doesn't even slow down until  he pulls her down to him, hard, and comes in one long, long, shuddering groan.  
  
    She collapses on top of him. Covered in sweat, she laughs breathily in his ear.  
  
    " _Damn_ ," is all he can think to say, breathless himself. The room's starting to spin lazy circles.  
  
    Veronica laughs again.  
  
    A little while later, he's kind of surprised to come out of that big-ass bathroom and see that Logan's taken his place on the bed with Veronica.  
  
    He should leave now, just find the rest of his clothes and get out, but he watches them instead. And after a moment, Logan stops what he's doing to Veronica, sits back on his knees and starts to unbutton his tailored shirt.  
  
    Eli sits down in a chair.  
  
    He tries to kid himself it's just a random hookup, just some couple he met in the bar, total strangers. (And aren't they all three different people now anyway?) Yeah, it's just some horny, drunk couple who wanted to get freaky in a way that's not even all that unusual these days. After all, he's met plenty of people with _real_ kinks.  
  
    Not that he's convinced Logan isn't in it for the pain.  
  
    But if they were strangers, he'd have taken off already, and instead he's sitting here, watching them move together on the bed. Just like earlier in the bar, he can't take his eyes off them. Something about the way they look together, all slim muscle and pale skin. They match. And for some reason that's the thought that finally propels him up and out of the chair.  
  
    _One of these things does not belong here..._  
  
    He grabs up the rest of his clothes and his boots and gets the hell out of the room, before they notice he hasn't left already.  
  
    He stops in the suite's front sitting room, and sits down to put on his boots. He's still pretty damn buzzed. So he decides to just take a minute and get his bearings. He leans back against the soft, embroidered sofa cushions and lets out a breath.  
  
    Still hard to believe this is happening. _Happened_. He really did run into Veronica and Logan tonight. He really did come back to their hotel room. And he and Veronica, not fifteen minutes ago, they--  
  
    Right in front of _Logan_...  
  
    He closes his eyes, just for a second. The room's still spinning a little. Easier just to lie here a minute and breathe. And the next thing he knows, Veronica's shaking him awake. She's leaning over him and smiling, wrapped in a loose robe.  
  
    "Hey," she says softly. "Why don't you just stay here tonight? There's plenty of room."  
  
    When he remembers where he is, he's still not sure what's going on. She wants him to _sleep_ here?  
  
    "How long was I out?"  
  
    "Long enough that Logan's asleep." She looks at him pointedly. "And _I'm_ not. Come on, come back to bed."  
  
    He gets her drift. "What if Logan wakes up?"  
  
    "What if he does?"  
  
    Eli shakes his head, bemused. She's holding out a hand to him, and he takes it and pulls her down on the couch with him instead. She laughs. She doesn't fight it, just slides onto his lap. He brushes hair out of her face. "Maybe we ought to let him get his rest."  
  
    Veronica traces a tattoo down his right arm with one index finger. "Well. That's awfully considerate of you."  
  
    If this were high school, he'd have something to say to that; something derogatory about Logan, or some little sexual innuendo to toss her way. But it isn't, so he just kisses her.  
  
    She doesn't fight that, either.  
  
***  
     
    It's almost dawn by the time she's finally had enough. Eli's so tired he's starting to see things. But Veronica insists on pulling him back to the bedroom to sleep. "It's a _really_ big bed," she says, like he hasn't already been in it tonight. "It'll be fine."  
  
    He doesn't see how any of this is going to be fine, but he's too tired to argue.  
  
    The bedroom's dark and cold and quiet. Veronica makes a space for him, next to her, under the covers. He slides in and buries his face under one of the hundred pillows. He's vaguely aware that Logan's over there somewhere in the dark, sleeping, on the other side of Veronica, but right now it's a hell of a lot easier not to think about it.  
  
    He finally lets sleep take him down.  
  
***


	2. Chapter 2

   **E** li sits now in the curtained darkness of Saturday afternoon. He finishes his cigarette and watches the digital clock blink over to 4:01 pm.   
  
    Veronica and Logan are still asleep.   
      
    His head is throbbing, but maybe not as bad as he deserves. Maybe it's a side benefit of the expensive booze. Quietly as he can, he stands and exits the bedroom, finds the rest of his clothes in the sitting room. Then he spots another door leading off the opposite direction, and he's not surprised to find it leads to another bedroom and another bathroom. This place is bigger than his apartment.   
  
    He decides it'll be easier to deal with reality if he has a shower first; this bathroom's a mirror image of the other one, same huge shower, and it's not a tough decision to make. He'll take a quick shower, then go downstairs and have the concierge call him a cab.   
  
    It's one of those hotels where they have every personal item you could ever need, all laid out in little sealed packets, and he chases two aspirin with an entire bottle of water and brushes his teeth while the shower gets hot.   
         
    Then he strips back down, gets into the shower and stands there a while, eyes closed, letting the hot water blast his sore muscles and get his blood circulating again. After about five minutes the pounding in his head starts to recede, and he decides that he's going to live, especially if there's coffee somewhere in the near future.   
  
    "Want some company?"  
  
    Female voice. His eyes snap open and he wipes water away from them.   
  
    Veronica. Standing there in a robe. Her blond hair is mussed and she looks sleepy; but her knowing grin is there, just like always. Checking him out through the glass walls of the shower, not bothering to pretend otherwise.  
  
    Eli mumbles something, it's supposed to be "Sure," but he has no idea what he actually said; Veronica unties the robe and slips it off her shoulders, lets it fall around her ankles. Naked, she pulls open the glass door and steps nimbly into the shower with him.   
  
    He moves to one side, sharing the water spray, because what the hell else is he supposed to do?  
  
    Besides, she looked cold.   
  
    They stare at each other, and finally he says, "Uh, I can leave..."  
  
    But Veronica laughs and moves closer to him, naked and all wet now, hair slicked back and dripping. "Is that what you want? I didn't mean to chase you away."  
  
    Sober now, this is a whole different game, and he's honestly not sure  _what_  he wants.   
  
    So he gets to the thing that's been nagging at him since he woke up:   
  
    He says, low as he can speak and still be heard above the shower spray, "Logan know that last night wasn't exactly the first time for us?"  
  
    Veronica says, "I wasn't even sure you remembered."  
  
    "Come on, V. Does he know or not?"  
  
    Graduation night, they'd run into each other at Lilly's memorial fountain. Not drunk like last night; just lonely, both of them. And they'd ended up back at his house, in his bedroom.   
  
    And she was gone the next morning. And never did return any of his calls after that. He'd never realized, till just now, how angry he still was about it.  
  
    But Veronica says, "Everyone's got their little secrets.  _Including_  Logan."   
  
    Which is still no answer at all. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
    "It means--there's a wet, naked girl in the shower with you and you want to have some big conversation about it?"   
  
    She's got a point.   
  
    He moves closer to her. She reaches for him.   
  
    And her mouth is even warmer than the steam around them.   
  
    He doesn't really remember what it was like, that night so long ago. It wasn't that it was bad, it just wasn't  _right_  somehow, and Veronica'd been willing but not what you'd call real vocal about what she wanted. And even quieter after. With the perspective of age, he realizes now that she'd just been a typical, inexperienced teenage girl.   
  
    Last night was different. Much. And drunk as he was, he remembers lots of things about it, little pieces of information that tend to stay with you.   
  
    Like the fact that Veronica likes her kissing rough. But a softer touch, elsewhere, really puts her over the edge, makes her crazy. A little frustration goes a long way with her. His hands remember. His mouth does. Hard and soft, hard and soft.   
  
    She moans, and it echoes all through the bathroom. Hard to care about the noise, though, when her hands are on  _him_  and she's obviously remembered some little details herself.   
  
    Last night he'd been wasted and it had been pretty good; today he's stone cold sober and it's beyond good. Like the alcohol had made him too numb to really appreciate things last night, like it had been a little too frantic and blurry and confused. There's something to be said for taking your time, and for using a little more finesse; he's known  _that_  since he was fifteen.   
  
    Another insistent moan from her. Eli's quads are still sore, but Veronica's small, and she holds on tight to him as he gets her up against the tiled back wall of the shower.  
  
     _This is a bad idea, bad idea, bad idea,_ goes the chorus in his head. Until finally Veronica digs her fingers hard into his shoulder blades and he stops thinking about much of anything.   
  
    And after he comes, dizziness hits him-- _having sex standing up in a hot shower, what'd you expect, fool?_ \--and when his head clears, both of them are still breathing heavily, and he realizes that Veronica's grinning at something beyond his shoulder. So he turns to look.  
  
    It's Logan. Just standing there all casual-like, leaning against the doorframe.  
  
    "I'm ordering room service," he says. "You two want anything?"     
  
***  
  
    Even after everything that's happened in the last eighteen hours, it's still hard for Eli to believe that he's actually sitting here in this effin' expensive hotel suite with Veronica and Logan, wearing this soft hotel robe, eating a very late lunch dropped off by room service.   
  
    It's awkward--or at least it should be. But Veronica and Logan act like it's all no big deal--the three of them here now, what happened last night, even Logan walking in on them half an hour ago. And since he's passed up multiple chances now to make a fast getaway, Eli figures he's kind of obliged to act like it's no big deal to him either. And after a little while, he finds he's not really acting anymore. It was just sex, after all. And now--well, now it's just lunch.    
  
    No big deal at all.   
  
    And then Logan goes over to the minibar and mixes up a pitcher of screwdrivers.  Which is probably the point at which Eli should make his exit, once and for all, but Logan just hands him a glass and says, "Here. Hair of the dog and all that."  
  
   And they just end up hanging out. It's got a familiar feeling to it, like the day after a big party, when the last few people who crashed at your place last night still haven't gone home, and you've cleaned up and now and there's nothing to do but sit around and talk.   
  
    And Logan's got some pretty good stories about the entertainment biz. Eli's got stories of his own. Veronica mostly just listens, makes the occasional smartass comment or calls bullshit. And throws couch cushions at them, and gets some back.   
  
    But everyone's clothes stay on.  
  
    About an hour later, Veronica starts yawning. "You know, I think I'm just taking a little nap," she says. "You guys just--do your thing." And bam, she's out, just like that, curled up in a little ball on the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest. Breathing deeply.   
  
    "Yeah," says Logan. "She does that. Damned if I know how."     
  
    So Eli and Logan go out to the private balcony, which Eli didn't even realize was out there. It's pretty big; couple of tables, lounge chairs, and a panoramic view of the Pacific. The sun's just gone down, and Logan drinks another vodka and orange juice while Eli has his second cigarette of the day.   
  
    He's been trying to cut back.  
  
    It really,  _really_  ought to be weird, sitting here alone with Logan, but it still isn't. It's like the normal reactions just aren't there.  _I've fucked your girlfriend, man,_  thinks Eli experimentally, glancing sidelong at Logan.  _You were there. You watched. More than once.  
  
    _ Nothing.  
  
    So he says, "You and Veronica--you got together after high school, or how did that work out?" It occurs to him that he has no idea what their relationship is really about.  
  
    Logan says, "Five, six years ago." He pauses. "Well, and we had a thing towards the end of senior year, but it didn't last long past graduation."  
  
    Eli frowns. "You mean--senior year of college?"  
  
    Logan shakes his head. "High school. Neptune. We didn't exactly publish an announcement in the school paper. Everything was still too insane. As you may recall."  
  
    So there it is, the reason Veronica never called him back.   
      
    "You guys did a good job keeping it quiet," he says, trying not to be bitter. And he's  _not_  jealous, it's more like a weird sense of retroactive betrayal. He wishes Veronica would have just told him how things were, back then.  
      
    Logan finishes his drink and sets the glass on the little table next to him, making the ice cubes clink and rattle. "We figured it was better if Duncan didn't know. Or, hell, anyone else for that matter. And you've got to understand, it's  _always_  been an on and off thing with us. The past is..." He makes a helpless gesture with one hand. "Fuck, I don't know. You think you're going to grow up and move beyond the shit that happened to you when you were younger, and the truth is, you never really do. No matter how much you think it through, no matter how much you try to  _feel_  your  _feelings_ , you never get any less fucked up--you just get better at hiding it. There's no such thing as closure. Closure's a myth invented by Hollywood and daytime talk shows."   
  
    Eli draws smoke deep into his lungs. He's never really thought about it before, not exactly in those terms. But even when you can feel the truth of something like that, feel it all the way to your bones, there's not much you can say in response. So he just exhales smoke and nods.   
  
    Logan continues: "So I guess Veronica and I just keep ending up back together because there's no one else who really gets it." He turns to look at Eli and says, "You were there. You must have some clue what I'm talking about."  
  
    Eli shrugs. "Didn't go through anything near as bad as you two did. Not by a long shot."   
  
    "But you and Lilly..." says Logan.   
  
    "Yeah, me and Lilly." It's weird that he can say it now, say it to Logan of all people, and not feel the old nagging ache. So maybe Logan's wrong, maybe things do change. Except...  
  
    Except he's kidding himself.   
  
    Never did have a girlfriend who lasted more than six or eight months; never could stand to look at them after the newness wore off, because they just didn't understand and he didn't feel like explaining. And sometimes it made them mad, that he wouldn't talk; and sometimes, like with Monica, they were just crazy bitches and it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Either way, it never lasted.  
  
    And the next thing he knows, he's telling all this to Logan, saying stuff he barely lets himself think about once or twice a year. About all the chicks he's been with, and how they're all  _not Lilly_.   
  
    "And the most fucked-up part," he concludes, "is that I can't even remember what she was really like, now... and it doesn't make any difference."  
  
    It's Logan's turn to nod. Maybe he understands that part of it. But he's got Veronica.   
  
    Then: "Never forgot about the bridge," says Logan, still staring into the distance.   
  
    Maybe it's the water, reminding Logan of that night, or maybe it's the height; but either way Eli isn't ready for this part.   
      
    " _Long_  time ago, man," he says.  
      
    "You saved my life," Logan persists.   
  
    "Yeah, well, I went there to kill you."  
  
    "I know. But you didn't. I remember all of it."    
  
    Eli tries hard _not_  to remember, but it's like all the floodgates to the past have been opened tonight.  
  
    It'd been windy up there, windy and cold for May; and late as it was, the traffic had started backing up behind them, people slowing down to get a look. Eli knew it wouldn't be long before the cops showed up.  
  
    " _Get down here, bitch,"_ he'd yelled at Logan.  _"You feel like running, I'll even give you a head start. Just get down here and take what you got coming."  
      
    _ Logan had just laughed.  _"I already took it, Pablo, I took it right up the ass from the whole goddamned universe. You should have gotten in line sooner."_ And he'd skipped back and forth from one foot to the other; grinning, vacant-eyed, completely unhinged.  
  
    Eli said,  _"So you killed Lilly, and you finally got caught, and now you're gonna take the pussy way out."  
  
    _ Logan had stopped laughing then. " _I didn't touch her,"_ he'd shot back acidly. _"You know that. You just can't get over the fact that she came back to me when she finished slumming it with you."_ And he'd looked over his shoulder, down at the water. His voice was quieter now:  _"And it doesn't fucking matter anyway. But, hey, do me a favor? Tell Veronica, when she figures out she was wrong--tell her I forgive her. And tell her she's still a heartless bitch."  
  
    _ And he'd known then that Logan was telling the truth. He didn't want to accept it, because if Logan  _was_  telling the truth then all that was left was the old jealousy, and Logan was wrong about that--it wasn't enough, not for what he'd come here meaning to do.   
  
    Still, he was in it now, and he had to do  _something._  
  
    Logan was still balancing on the edge, half-turned to face the water, like he was done with everything and everyone and was seriously beginning the process of talking himself into it.   
  
    But if Eli went for him now, even odds said they were both going over that railing. And in a part of his mind, that wasn't such a bad thing. He'd seen worse ways to die. Falling like that, it would probably be over before you knew it. And for a few seconds, it would be like flying.   
  
    Scared himself, thinking that way.   
  
    So he made everyone else leave, told them there was no reason for them all to get picked up by the cops for questioning; snarled at the last few who wanted to stay and watch the  _vato loco_  jump.   
  
    And then it was just him and Logan. Which made Logan turn to him, and start grinning again.  _"Is this the part where you finally admit how you really feel about me? Because, really, I think it may be too late for us."  
  
    _ Eli had shrugged.  _"Naw, man, I'm just waiting to see if you're gonna jump. Like a little bitch. You know--just like your mother?"_ He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans and sneered.  _"I guess being a pussy runs in the family."  
  
    _ Logan had come off the railing and after him like a pit bull. Eli let him get in a few punches, but in less than a minute it was over; he had Logan up against the side of his SUV, bleeding from the mouth and most of the fight gone out of him. Eli shoved a hand down into Logan's front pocket and came up with the car keys.  
      
    He'd held them up in front of Logan's face.  _"You need to take your sorry ass home."_  
      
     _"Hey, we've all got needs, homeboy. You, for example, need to fuck off and die."_  
  
    So Eli knocked him against the car again a few times, not so hard now, just punctuating his words.  _"Go home. You hear me? You make me sick. Quit blaming the whole world for your problems. Suck it up like the rest of us. Go home. Punch a wall, see a shrink, get laid, whatever. Just get the fuck out of here."_  
  
     _"You should really teach a motivational course,"_  Logan had said,  _"You could be the Dale Carnegie of the barrio."_  Trying to keep his game face on, but his voice was weak and quavering. He'd taken in a huge, shaky breath, and he really looked for a second like he  _wasn't_  going to break down. And Eli had hoped, desperately, that Logan would hold it together long enough to get back into his damn truck.  
  
    But he hadn't, and it all came out at once. One second Logan was just breathing, and the next he was sobbing; one second Eli was holding Logan up against the SUV, and the next he was just...holding him.  
      
    Moments passed--maybe a few too many. Logan smelled like about three kinds of booze, and beneath that he smelled like the fabric softener that his doubtlessly Latina housekeeper used when she did the laundry. And the skin of his cheek, where it touched Eli’s neck, was way too soft; no one who went around acting like they were burdened with the soul of a forty-year-old should have skin so soft and delicate. He sobbed without making a sound, his whole body shaking.

    And then it was over, come and gone like a desert flash-flood. Logan grew still; Eli released him and stepped back. Logan turned his head to one side and spat blood. Then he grabbed the keys from Eli, never looking him in the eyes, and stumbled around to the driver's side. And drove off. Maybe not the best thing, him driving right now, but Eli figured Logan had plenty of practice driving drunk. He walked back to the railing and looked down at the black water, rubbing the spot on his neck that he realized was wet with Logan's tears. He stared at the water until he saw the police lights in the corner of his eye.  
  
    That night was the last time he'd ever talked to Logan Echolls. And the next day, they'd all found out about it, what his daddy had done.   
  
    Didn't seem like there was much left to say after that.   
  
    And now, Logan's still looking his way. Waiting.   
  
    "I did what I had to, that night," Eli says finally. "That's all."   
  
    Logan nods slowly. "Yeah. I think I know something about that." He stands up and walks to edge of the balcony, leans against this railing.  
  
    So Eli gets up and leans next him, not too close, looks out across at the darkening water. And for a second it could  _be_  that night on the bridge, and he wonders if Logan's going to take a sudden leap and finish the job this time.   
  
    But Logan just glances sidelong at Eli, then back away. "You watched the trial, right?"  
  
    No point asking  _which_  trial. "I watched it," Eli says. "The whole thing."   
  
    "You know my father almost walked, right? Legal dream team and all. But California was tired of letting celebs get away with murder, and in the end they nailed him... thanks to Veronica's testimony."  
  
    "I remember," says Eli.   
  
    "Life without parole," Logan continues. "They decided not to go for the death penalty. And I figured I could live with that, you know? Never having to see the sick old bastard again. But a couple of years pass, and the next thing you know"--he laughs bitterly--"The next thing you know, one of his lawyers calls to tell me they're working an angle for a possible mistrial, and isn't that just  _fantastic_?"   
  
    "But that never happened," Eli points out. He remembers Aaron's prison mugshot, next to what would be his final headline:  _Actor Found Dead in San Quentin Laundry Room._ "In the end it caught up with him."   
  
    Logan's face finally hardens into an expression: rage, determination, resignation. He looks at Eli with eyes gone a little crazed.  
  
    "I know," he says. "You have any idea how much it  _costs_  to hire a hit on someone in prison?"  
  
    Holy  _fuck._  
  
    Eli's heart starts hammering as he puts it together. He feels a little sick, and it's not just the hangover and the rich hotel food. He doesn't want to hear this, doesn't want to know it, damn sure doesn't want to be an accessory to it.  
  
    And at the same time, he can almost understand.   
  
    But he just stares at Logan. Logan stares back, and doesn't even blink.  
  
    "I used to know," Eli says finally. "I don't anymore. Not for a long time now."  
  
    "Yeah, well,  _I_  know," says Logan. And he laughs softly. "I know exactly how much." Final confirmation, looking at Eli defiantly.

     _Yeah. I did it. And I'm trusting you. I'm handing you the knife and turning my back. So what's it gonna be?_  
  
    And Eli doesn't know  _why_  Logan's trusting him. Except, maybe, the bridge. And--   
  
    "Would've done the same," he admits. "If I had a way."  
      
    Logan just nods, his expression gone back to placid now, almost tranquil.   
  
    So. After everything and against all reasonable odds, they understand each other.   
  
    "Did what I had to do," Logan echoes. "That's all."  He nods over at Eli. "Hey. Give me one of those smokes, will ya?"   
  
***  
  
    Maybe an hour later, they're still standing there, drinking and smoking and watching the night sky. The glass door slides opens and Veronica leans outside. "Hello, boys," she says. A pause; a mischievous grin. "You know, I think I'm ready for dessert."   
  
    And she disappears back into the suite.   
  
    Eli and Logan exchange a glance. "She ever actually wear out?" Eli asks.   
  
    Logan grins wryly. "Hey, we all burn off stress in different ways. I don't judge."   
  
***  
  
    Inside, Eli hesitates, because Logan’s already climbing onto the bed with Veronica; but then he sees the look they’re both giving him. Like, why the hell is he still just standing there?   
  
    And turns out there really is room enough for all three of them, even like  _this._ _  
  
_ And when they all fall asleep, hours and hours later, Eli's arm is slung around Veronica's waist, but his fingers are brushing against Logan's arm, over on the other side of her. And it's all right.  
  
*** _  
  
_ It's  _déjà vu_ , waking up in the faux darkness again; but this time it's only nine, about the time he'd normally be getting up anyway. He slips out of bed without waking anyone up, gets dressed and has his morning cigarette out on the patio overlooking the Pacific. He stares at the ocean for a long time.   
  
    He could almost get used to this shit.   
  
    And it's Veronica who finds him first, just like yesterday. Only she's dressed this time, in jeans and a simple top. Her long blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail.   
  
    "Hey," she says. "There you are. We thought maybe you'd left." She sits down next to him.  "Logan's downstairs settling the bill. I was just packing up."   
  
    Eli smiles at her, but he says, "You know, I've been thinking."  
  
    Veronica grins at him. "Always a dangerous pastime, I've found."   
  
    "Yeah." He gives her a straight look. "Logan and I were both hammered Friday night. And you, you  _acted_  drunk, but the more I think about it, the more I don't remember seeing you drink much past the first round or two."  
  
    She gives him a nonchalant little shrug, palms upturned. "I don't drink often. It doesn't take much."   
  
    "Okay. But I'm also thinking it's a pretty big coincidence--us running into each other at that club."  
      
    "Oh?"   
  
    "Maybe too big a coincidence, when  _you're_  involved."   
  
    Veronica is silent for a moment, but then she smiles. "You always were smarter than you looked. And it always did come back to bite me in the ass."  
  
    "Well, I ain't smart enough to figure out why you tracked me down.  _Can't_  have just been for cheap sex."  
  
    "Oh, give yourself some  _credit._ "  
  
    He laughs. But then: "Seriously."  
  
    "Seriously. Okay." She stands back up and crosses her arms in front of her chest, a pose he remembers all too well.   
  
    "Lilly's murder," Veronica begins. "Always comes back down to that, doesn't it? And it ruined everyone's lives. Everyone who was involved. Duncan's back in an institution, did you know that? His parents got divorced after his father's trial, and they had to sell off the software company. Celeste drank herself to death. And Trina's dead, and none of Logan's other relatives have ever spoken to him again. Like it was all somehow  _his_  fault. And don't even get me started on Jake Kane and my mother." She looks out at the ocean. "And we always thought my father would get his old job back, after the truth came out. But somehow it never happened."   
  
    Eli looks at her, waiting.   
  
    "But you," Veronica continues, "I worried about you, you know? And I graduated high school owing you a lot of favors. So I kept track of you and your little posse. And half the guys you ran with were dead or in jail by the time you were old enough to legally drink _._  But somehow you turned out all right."   
  
    "Yeah, well," he says, "I got out." He looks up at her. "You and Logan seem okay."   
  
    "You're a terrible liar," she says. "And I know Logan's still got secrets. Something connected to Lilly and everything that happened. But he'll never admit it to me. He won't talk to me about any of it."  
  
    It all makes sense, all of a sudden. Too much fucking sense. "So you figured you'd get  _me_  in the picture, see if I could find out if he's hiding anything. And report back to you." He laughs ruefully. "Man, it really is just like old times."  
  
    "No," she says. "I don't want you to tell me anything. I don't even want to know if there's really anything to tell. I just wanted  _him_ \--to be able to talk to someone. And I thought maybe out of everyone who was there when everything went down--maybe he'd talk to you. And I knew you'd be able to handle it."   
  
    "And you figured sleeping with me was the way to make this all happen?"  
  
    She smiles. "Let's say I figured it couldn't hurt."  
  
    "So Logan thought it was all some cosmic coincidence, too." He looks at her. "You two do this kind of thing a lot? This weekend? With other people?"   
      
    She shrugs. "Now and then."    
  
    He tries to be shocked, but nothing comes. Besides, he's hardly in a position to chuck stones at anyone's glass houses. And Veronica probably already knew that.   
  
    So life gets boring, when you've seen as much as they have. And maybe after a while it takes something extra to even feel anything.  
  
    "So you're headed back to Neptune," he says, finally.   
  
    "Yeah. But Logan and I were talking. We thought maybe..."  
  
    "Yeah?"  
  
    "Maybe you could come visit sometime."  
  
    Eli stares at her, wondering exactly how much is included in that invitation. "I'm not sure that's such a great idea..."  
  
    But Veronica just grins like she's  _knows_  he's fronting. "Well. If you change your mind..." She hands him a little card with numbers on it.  
  
    Eli takes it and nods. "You'll be the first to know."  
  
    Veronica smiles at him again. She stands and leans over him, one small hand on his shoulder, and kisses him on the cheek before she turns to leave. "Room's paid for till noon. Hang out as long as you want. Nice view, huh?" A last smile, and she's gone.   
  
    Eli keeps his face impassive, neutral, until she closes the door behind her and the thick curtains swing back into place.   
  
    Then he lights up another cigarette. He'll quit tomorrow.   
  
    He tries to think of the things he needs to do  _today_ , like get home and change, and then make sure the shop didn't burn down or anything. He turned off his cell sometime in the early hours of Saturday and he never turned it back on, and it's more than possible that Scottie showed up for work and called the police when she couldn't get ahold of him.   
  
    But his mind wanders from the present back to last night, and the night before, and eleven years ago. He wonders how good a job Logan did covering his tracks; and he wonders if Veronica's really told him the whole truth about this weekend--or about anything, ever.   
  
    He flips the card around in his fingers.   
  
    But mostly...   
  
    Mostly, he just wonders how long he'll be about to hold out.   
  
***  
  
END


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